


Shelf Space

by SirSolicitous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck, discontinued, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirSolicitous/pseuds/SirSolicitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motley snippets of Roxy Lalonde and Calliope's day to day lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelf Space

**Author's Note:**

> I have tried and therefore no one can judge me.

Libraries always provide solace in a way Roxy Lalonde cannot explain accurately. She isn’t the type that could spend all her time hidden away behind mountains of books; being cooped up all alone for so long would drive her mad. This nostalgia was something drilled into her through childhood, the countless hours she had spent sprawled out the study floor with her toys listening to her mother click away manuscripts out of the old typewriter; Mom always was a fan of the vintage aesthetic. And when Mom became more and more busy with book signings and business meetings that only her ghost lingered the long halls, when her existence started to recede in Roxy’s mind as distant toddler’s memories—faint, inviting, but fleeting—the aging teen spent her days reading as many books as she could find. Striving to imitate her mother’s glory, she read and reread her books, sometimes staying up so late she’d wake the next morning with her face buried in its spine, with the strangest mixture of admiration and envy.

Roxy Lalonde grew up, realized the rampant beast that is written word was not her calling, and that the expansive field of biochemistry better suited her. There is a certain thrill in the idea of what undetermined phenomenon lays waiting to be discovered.

Libraries still bring forth that indescribable feeling, as Roxy is reminded a few minutes strolling through the grand library to her new campus. After had she finished unpacking, cluttering her space with Lalonde-brand controlled chaos, plastering every inch of her side of the walls with posters and pictures, she had decided to explore campus. When the stale waft of aging parchment and leather greets her nose, Roxy hears a faint click-click-clicking of the old typewriter at the back of her mind. Her melancholy only worsens when she browses the fiction section, her lacquered nails grazing the uneven line of books, and happens upon a copy of _Complacency of the Learned_ , Mom's greatest milestone, freshly covered in clear plastic. Roxy owns a much worn copy stowed away back home.

Pulling the book from the shelf, she smiles. _Wow, Rox, way to go; you’ve been here for, like, ten minutes and you already made yourself totally homesick._

A girl at her side, just out of her line of sight, catches her attention. “Excuse me?” Startled, Roxy whips around. The girl is taller than her, built like a beanstalk, dressed in a blazer and tie, and caramel skinned. Stray blonde hairs peek out from her green head wrap and frame her face, very androgynous with defined cheekbones and stout jaw. Her olive eyes, however, exaggerate her loveliness, bringing softness to her expression.

Roxy pulls the headphone from her ear. Tinny music echoing from its speakers covers up the silence taken for her to realize she was asked a question. “Hm?” “Would you happen to know where I can find-- Oh, drat! It looks like you found the novel I was searching for.” There’s a foreign twang to this girl’s voice that makes Roxy’s heart flutter. She blinks once, looks down to the book in question, and then back up to the girl before she hands it over. “Oh no, no, no! I cannot ask you to curb your interest just for me. You read it. I hear it’s marvelous.”

“No, it’s okay. I already read it. I was … just lookin’, I guess. So you totes should take it. Trust me.” She presses it into her hands. “S’not really my thing anyways.”

Frazzled, the girl thumbs the cover, just over the face of the protagonist, and asks, “Are you certain?”

“Yup! You just got to do one thing for me.” The girl quirks her brow. Her gorgeous green eyes spark with curiosity. Roxy wants to see more of that look, wants to know more about this mysterious girl. “You got to tell me your name!”

“Oh, um …” She struggles with it like the word is caught right in her throat, looking around downcast. “Calliope.”

“Calliope,” Roxy repeats slowly, easing the weight it brings on her tongue. Sounds foreign. Calliope braces for some sort of repercussion, perhaps mockery for its oddity, “I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not, it’s super cute.”

Calliope smiles. “Thank you. And what may I ask is your name, love?”

“Call me Roxy!”

“That’s a nice name.”

Their interaction reminds Roxy of children on a playground, simple and meaningless but pleasant nonetheless. The innocence is a refreshing change of things. Laughter bubbles up from her chest, much to Calliope’s disgruntlement. “Oh, belt up! That seemed like a reasonable response,” she protests, but she giggles too. Her laugh is light and airy. Once she calms down, she says, “But, really, thank you, Roxy. This book has been on my to-do list for ages.”

“No prob. You know,” Roxy tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “Callie, this looks like the start to one hella good friendship.”


End file.
